The breezes were fluid in their dances. Birds sang in their chime like voices, swelling at the glories of their Natha. The sun was never harsh in its sheen. The autumn sunshine that you'd bask in. The entire Prakriti would breathe the name of Rama. Slowly, like the greatest hymn it had ever known. Their SiyaRama were back. Finally. The name was gifted by @Ramayana_lover Cover credits @Bloominginmythology
4 parts